Selfless
by Cursed Detective
Summary: Because Mouri Ran was strong, except where she wasn't, and relationships cannot be built on lies. (The end of a dream, with lies of reality) Not ShinRan, really, though it once might have been.
_I had a oneshot-bunny. I'm sorry. It has delayed Lucid Dreams. *shamed face*_

 ** _Selfless_**

He'd been selfish in this—his recent life—and he knew it. But he had weighed what he'd hoped had been his chances against his heart and hers, and _chosen_ to be selfish, because he had held faith that she would not allow that selfishness to pass beyond what she was willing and able to bear.

But he hadn't known, then, that Mouri Ran was strong… except where she wasn't.

And, in this, she was not strong.

He'd chosen to be selfish for three reasons, and one of those reasons had been faith in the one he'd held on to. Another had been that he had hoped, and _wanted,_ and the dream had been one he would have pursued to the end… in another life.

The last… the last was that he had needed _something_ to hold on to, to use as a talisman against the despair that would have dragged him under if not for its light.

Kudo Shinichi was only human. He was terrifyingly smart, but young and ultimately he had been—and still was, in many ways—arrogant. He had lost his _life_ to that arrogance, that teen-typical sense of invulnerability. He couldn't have his family, his dreams, or even his own _name._ Everything that made up a person's life had to be hidden, and only the most literal fragment remained to him.

It had been over two years, and Ran cried over him some nights. She hadn't decided to let him go, and he watched as, in true human fashion, she forgot all the ways in which they hadn't gotten along.

And he realized _why_ she hadn't let go of the dream.

Because Mouri Ran was strong, except where she wasn't, and he'd never before seen her in a situation to expose this one place where she was weak.

She was holding onto the dream even though it was obvious she no longer really believed he was coming back, because if she let him go, if she looked for a new person, a new dream… She would be risking that new dream where the old was already half-lost. She wasn't strong enough to make that choice on her own.

Shinichi (Conan) hopped off the couch, unable to watch the tired sadness and clinging hope as Ran stirred chocolate on the stove.

Valentine's Day was soon, and she was making chocolate for someone she didn't expect to see.

 _xxxx_

"Haibara. I have a question… about the antidote."

"I already told you I won't give you any of the old prototypes and I won't have a new one ready for at least another two weeks," she informed him, not even glancing up.

"That's… not the question. I just wanted to know… if you have any idea how long it will take to complete. _Really_ complete."

His fellow not-child did look up at that, frowning at his tone. "… In honesty, at least another year. Probably longer."

Shinichi nodded. He still wanted the antidote, but… well. He pulled off his tie and set the dials to what his voice should be and wasn't, heading towards the guest room as he dug out his 'Shinichi' phone.

" _Shinichi?_ "

And she sounded—not quite happy, but _relieved_ that he had called. "Ran," he replied, voice wavering just a little. This was the right choice, because after all the lies, they would never have a stable relationship, and he didn't even know _how_ he loved her beyond that he did. But he'd grown to love the kids and Haibara with the same fierceness, and he was starting to realize he might never have loved Ran _romantically_ at all.

The dream, perhaps, but not Ran herself.

" _Shinichi? What's wrong?_ "

He let out a breath, "Ran, you shouldn't… you shouldn't wait for me anymore."

" _What? Shinichi, what are you saying?_ "

The alarm there was real, but Shinichi wondered if she even knew all of _why_ that alarm was real. She didn't love _him,_ not romantically, but she loved the dream more than he ever had. "I… do you remember that day at Tropical Land?"

" _Of course I remember! It was when… when…_ "

"When I left. Please, Ran, you know I wouldn't have gone if I'd had choice, don't you? It's not just a _case_ ," he hesitated, not sure how much he could safely say.

" _You're sick, aren't you?_ " she asked quietly. " _Whenever I've seen you since then, you always seem sick._ "

"No," Shinichi sighed, "No, not sick. I was poisoned by something experimental, untested. It's—not traceable, it doesn't show up in my bloodwork, but what it's _doing_ … I resisted it far better than anyone else they'd tested it on, apparently. The FBI say they have quite a few of what they think are other victims, but…"

" _You…_ " a long, hesitant silence, " _Shinichi, are you dying?_ "

"I'm developing resistance to the stabilizers their chemists and doctors made to keep me alive. They keep telling me they'll come up with something else, but… without an actual antidote, and with how many times they've already needed to work out new formulas… I'm running out of _time_ , Ran. The current belief is that an actual antidote will take well over a year to complete, and the odds of me lasting that long are… very low."

All of which was true, in one form or another. There had been an awful lot of close calls, and Shinichi wouldn't be surprised if he was killed before he was cured.

Ran wasn't saying anything, her breath shaky on the line.

"Ran… I need to you move on. I can't—even if I make it through this, I can't keep hearing Conan tell me how you're sad and alone. I _can't_. You're—you deserve _better_ than this. Please, just… find someone who makes you _happy._ "

" _Shinichi,_ " Ran choked out, but already he could hear the relief mixed with the grief and regret. " _Shinichi,_ please, _don't die._ "

He laughed, choked and wry, "I'm doing my best, and the FBI have kept me safe so far. I probably won't see you again, not unless they work out a real antidote. So… I'm sorry, Ran. I shouldn't have—I shouldn't have led you on. Just… be angry if you need to, but _please,_ move on."

A cracking sob, " _Okay,"_ Ran managed thickly. " _Okay. I'll… I'll_ try. _But…_ "

Shinichi smiled, though she wouldn't be able to see it. "Conan said that the Hondou boy's in love with you. I may not have met him, but… Conan said he was nice. And that he needed some serious looking after, whatever _that_ means."

Ran managed something like a giggle, " _He's… a bit clumsy. But he moved to America, so…_ "

"Should I have Sensei look him up?" Shinichi questioned, half-teasing.

 _"_ _I think I have his number somewhere… I have his e-mail, anyway. He's got to be better than anyone Sonoko would try to set me up with._ "

Shinichi laughed again, "She's a terror, isn't she?"

" _Shinichi!_ "

Ran was laughing again, relief and grief and maybe tentative hope. It was good. Better than he'd seen for a while, all tired worry and plastic smiles. This, at least, sounded _genuine._

He took a breath to retort against the half-protest and something caught in his lungs as he dropped down into the guest-room chair, and, gods _bless_ , he'd forgotten that Agasa had blown up a prototype in there the day before.

He choked on the inhale and started coughing, harsh and thick, unable to catch his breath. It was—it was _cruel_ , but it reinforced the lie he'd given, because he was always clutching at his chest or coughing when Ran saw him, these days. He couldn't breathe anyway, and waiting out the fit with her on the line wasn't something he was going to do. He snapped his phone closed, cutting off the call, and rolled back off the chair again, stumbling out into the main room while hacking whatever that dust was from his lungs.

Haibara hopped off the couch, looking alarmed at the fit—which _did_ kind of come off as 'dying, sorry'—and it took him another three minutes to get his breathing under control, his chemist/doctor checking him over with a frown.

"Okay," he rasped, "Have to ask. _What_ was the Hakase working on yesterday?"

Haibara blinked twice, then chuckled. "An automated robotic vacuum, I think. What didn't he re-clean?"

"Chair."

Haibara glanced him over, then grimaced. "Go brush off in the back yard. Your entire back is _covered._ I'll find you a fresh set of clothes and you can shower after you've gotten the worst of it off outside."

An hour later, he was clean, dry, and freshly clothed; and he wandered back off to call Ran again. Better not to leave her worrying that much for too long.

" _Shinichi? What happened? Are you all right?_ "

He was tired, though not so much physically. Still, it wasn't hard to let the weariness leak into his voice, "Just an attack, Ran. I'm okay. My lungs aren't very strong, these days."

" _Will… when will you call again?_ "

"I'll try to call you next week, unless things change. Sorry, Ran, Sensei wants me sleeping, and is threatening to force the issue. I've got to go before I get sedated."

Ran made a sound that might have been either a laugh or a sob, but managed a watery, " _Goodnight, then, Shinichi. I'll talk to you next week._ "

"Take care, Ran," Shinichi said quietly, then hung up before she could answer. He sighed and clicked off the voice-changer.

Some might think it selfless, for him to let her go. But he knew better. There was nothing selfless in this—the dream wasn't worth the guilt of hurting her, leading her on, _lying_ to her. And he couldn't _stop_ lying, but maybe he could lessen the first and he _could_ stop the second.

She _wanted_ that dream, so badly, but more for the dream's sake than anything else, and maybe she could find it again. With someone who could be honest, who could be _there._

He had Hondou Eisuke's number, as well, and now he had reason to use it.

No. There was nothing selfless in this, because he wanted her to move on as much for his sake as her own. And she didn't want to move on, for all that it would be better for her _,_ which made this at least mostly _selfish._

But it was a kind of selfish that he was all right with being, this time.


End file.
